


Zankō

by gardnerhill



Category: Miss Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, F/F, Prompt Fic, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 09:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardnerhill/pseuds/gardnerhill
Summary: Some things just can't be hidden. My first fic in the "Miss Sherlock" fandom.





	Zankō

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2018 July Watson's Woes Promptfest prompt #6, **Double Take.** Watson keeps getting odd looks from people and can't figure out why. Tell or show us why.

Wato Tachibana left 221b to make her rounds – her shift at the shelter, lunch, new battery for her phone, pick up tea and a few other items Mrs. Hatano had asked her to get. It was such a relief to return to a steady routine, and so wonderful that what she had thought lost was safe and alive after all. And then there was that other thing that had happened, too…

People were looking at her.

  
The looking part wasn't new. In her first weeks after her return from Syria, Wato had seen pitying glances in every set of public eyes cast her way – it was as if they could all see that ugly scar on her shoulder from the shrapnel even through her shirt, see how many horrors still lived behind her eyes; they all waited for her to break down as she had that one time in the street.

  
This was different. This wasn't pity. It was … puzzlement.

As surreptitiously as possible Wato made sure her outfit didn't reveal anything, her shirt wasn't tucked into her underpants, no toilet paper on her shoe. No, all as it should be. A tongue over her teeth did not reveal anything stuck there. Hair seemed all right.

She'd been on these same streets slogging through her routine for weeks now, months. 221b to the shops, to her job, to … to that woman (Wato could never call her a therapist ever again, oh the lies, the horrible things she'd done). In the days after … after what Sherlock had done, to save her… Wato had had to make herself walk around and do her work, her face stiff as a superhero's mask to keep from weeping or collapsing again. If people gave her pitying looks she didn't remember, everything had been made of wood.

Why was everyone giving her strange looks? As if they didn't recognize her?

Wato shook her head, and went on with her errands.

More surprised looks as she headed home – truly home now – and back to 221b. The lovely deep tones of an expertly-played cello beckoned her up the stairs to the untidy, wonderful rooms she shared. Her heart lifted despite the strangeness at hearing that music again. Perhaps Sherlock would be able to explain.

But it was Mrs. Hatano who solved the mystery this time, for the woman had a romantic heart. Their landlady came in almost immediately after Wato's return to collect the tea and vegetables she'd picked up, and her whole face creased in a smile. "Ah, _zankō_!" she said delightedly.

Wato gaped.

The cello music stopped as Sherlock started laughing, setting down her bow. This was her partner's (her _friend's_ ) brassy laugh, and not the soft one the odd, brilliant woman had made when she and Wato had been clasped together in one bed, welcoming each other home with hands and mouths and fingers, brushing away tears, whispering apologies. "No wonder everyone stared at you in the street, Wato-san!"

Wato whirled and gaped, face flushing hot. She hadn't even told Sherlock about –

"How many weeks did everyone see you looking sad or grim while you walked around this neighborhood?" Sherlock said, as if theorizing in front of a prisoner. "You're embarrassed, Wato, but you're still glowing from the sex we just had!"

"And you look so bright and happy now that Sherlock's returned," Mrs. Hatano said, beaming herself. "Even when you're not smiling, you look like a different woman."

Wato sat down in a chair and covered her face with her hands. "Oh, you're terrible!" she cried at Sherlock.

"That's not what you said to her last night," Mrs. Hatano said tartly.

"And YOU are a busybody!" Sherlock snapped at Mrs. Hatano, her own cheeks coloring at last. "You shouldn't eavesdrop on our bedroom!"

"Then pay me for better soundproofing for your floor!" Hatano snapped back. "I'm not a dried-up old lady and I need my sleep too, you know—"

And both were interrupted by Wato laughing, and laughing, and laughing.

**Author's Note:**

> "Zankō" is Japanese for "afterglow."


End file.
